Urban Phantasy: Death
by Skellingtonfan1
Summary: Daniel Fenton was supposed to die. He was supposed to die in that accident, life would go on, that would be the end of it.  Setting study


**I get the weirdest ideas in the shower. **

**Rundown: I have a character design and backstory for Death. But he rarely shows himself in person unless his son Lucifer (not Satan, I swear) is involved. And since Codiak and I have these big convos about Lucifer I've had the characters concerning him running through my head. I ended up thinking about a line Death snaps in a story I've yet to write. **

"**You have been nothing but trouble to me. First I'm told not to reap you, then I have to mess with an alternate timeline and rewrite thousands of books to fit what Father Time wants-You're lucky I still have to abide by rules or I would take your soul in an instant."**

**Bah. Blame my imagination for this piece of garbage. **

**Disclaimer: Clocky isn't mine. If he was I would totally be reliving those trips to Disney World when I was younger. **

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><p>It was standing in the Fenton Lab, hidden from sight while three teenagers fiddled with broken equipment that Death tapped one foot and shifted anxiously. The pale-skinned man in the black suit held The Great Scythe strapped to his back in case force was needed, glasses lowered as to observe the scene unfolding, while his blonde haired (female for this work shift) assistant waited patiently.<p>

"I'm getting impatient." Death smoothed one hand over the stark white stripe that circled the back of his head, checking that _yes_, every follicle was indeed as perfect as when he first combed it.

"I know." Chrona gripped her silver and white shark-toothed scythe tightly. He had been tapping his foot since they finished reaping the soul of some politician in Europe nearly half an hour ago. If it weren't for the fact her employer was an immortal who could strike her down with a look she would have slapped him in annoyance. Her red eyes focused on the scrawny teen that was their target, currently putting on a white and black suit while his female friend snapped a picture. It was a shame when they died young. But she had been doing this job for 900 years so the death of infants and minors no longer fazed her as it had in the beginning. "Why are you so hurried today, Master?"

"Simple. I want to go home." His snapped answer seemed to satisfy the angel, as she knew the real meaning was _"I want to get home before my son is in bed"_. No matter how anal he acted all of his servants knew he was a devoted father. But such was the story for another time, since the subject of these musings was finally stepping into the machine and setting the course of fate which would lead to his immortal soul parting from Earth.

The accidental brush of a button led to the sound of electrical charging.

The scream of pain rang through the room and seemed to imitate the highest pitch banshee.

...and it kept going...

...and going...

_...and going..._

_...dammit why hasn't he died yet-_

"Teenagers always give the most resistance." Death sighed. As protocol dictated he reached into some form of hammerspace and brought forth the book that served as a timeline for the subject of the reaping.

_Daniel Fenton-Electrical Accident_

That was what it said that morning when his name appeared on the list. Now there was a giant strikethrough and at least a thousand more pages in the book. Scrawled in the margins (to Death's great annoyance, since scribbling in a book was completely disrespectful to a literature lover!) was "_Don't reap, change of plans."_

Chrona stepped away from her Master as a precaution to one of his fits.

As Daniel Fenton stepped out of the portal with a head of white hair and a _beating heart_, Death slammed the now-thick tome shut and screamed towards the sky in rage. Chrona plugged her ears accordingly.

"_**CLOCKWORK!"**_

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><p>The Master of Time had known Death since his creation. As he had known Lady Flara (Mother Nature), the three of them were the first immortals (besides the Old Ones, who were much too unstable to be trusted with Earth and its subsequent dimensions) who began their watch over life. He was Father Time, Keeper of the Clocks, and as such he had much more interaction with Death than any other Immortal. He was the one who controlled the years that told how long a person lived.<p>

So it was no surprise that they tended to but heads. It was much worse when Death was still the Cloaked Reaper, the figure of fear humans present him as in their Christmas specials or drunk driving PSA's. Back then he would strike lightning when his temper was frayed.

"CLOCKWORK, YOU INSUFFERABLE JACKASS!"

Nowadays he would drop his eloquent vocabulary and begin using course Earth language.

Death stomped through the portal that led to his clocktower and slammed Daniel's book on a small table, knocking a glass of tea over and prompting a sigh from Father Time as he shifted from young male to old man.

"I _just _made that. You owe me a glass of Earl Grey."

"You _REWROTE _a book without my permission! The boy was supposed to _DIE!_" During the small yelling match, Chrona flew through the portal and rested her scythe against he wall, tucked her wings in, then shifted to male. Seeming relieved at not wearing a damned miniskirt anymore, the now male angel set to work cleaning the mess his Master caused.

"Change of plans. It was needed."

"WITHOUT CONSULTING ME?"

"It was a last minute deal. If you want his soul that badly there is still the version that died in an alternate timeline. Go take that one." He seemed to wave the other man off, shifting from old man to child and accepting a new glass of tea from Chrona. "Thank you, dear."

Death still seethed with anger and pushed away the cup offered him by his assistant. Chrona took the hint and sat down with it instead, taking out a bag of cookies he had snagged that morning from the kitchens in the Underworld Palace and settling in to watch the carnage. "But that timeline isn't the _main _timeline. Clockwork, you know how serious this is. The fate of a living being is written in stone, rewriting their book has consequences that-"

"That alter reality itself and causes more alternate timelines that give you more work. Yes, I know." Another shift from child to young adult. "Your point?"

"YOU BROKE OUR AGREEMENT!"

"An agreement I have broken several times. Remember the dinosaurs?" Death flushed red at that. Flara had been furious with the both of them when he had to kill almost every being _and _her precious plants. Nothing was scarier than Mother Nature when her babies were harmed. "You linger on the past too much. Daniel's new life will benefit many people and have a positive change on Earth in general. This change was what I planned for him since the beginning."

"_Then why didn't you tell me to put it in the book in the first place?" _Death slammed his hands on the table and leaned far too close to Clockwork's face, who in turn went deadpan and sipped his tea.

"I believe at the time you were in mourning. Your patience was extremely thin. Telling you to add on to someone's book would have ended in you slashing me with your scythe in a fit of rage."

At the word 'mourning' Death's eyes flashed to his ring finger, where the silver band taunted him with its mere presence. He hadn't taken it off since the reason for his mourning passed. Chrona visibly shrunk in his seat. Knowing his master, he wasn't going to be very happy when they finally returned to the palace.

"I could have taken it." His brow furrowed.

"No, you couldn't have. You were raising your child and drowning your sorrows in work, and having fits of anger at those who disturbed your routine while you fantasized on ways to bring-"

"_Don't_ bring that into this." Death snapped.

"And there goes that temper again." Clockwork smiled that knowing smile of his, practically screaming "I know stuff you don't HA HA."

"Just give me permission to reap the boys soul. The book said he was to die. So his soul is mine." Death shook with the effort to not scream, gritting the statements through his teeth. The shadows that seemed to follow him everywhere began creeping like vines, slowly solidifying into the cloak he had worn for the first who-knows-how-many years of existence.

"Master, your form." Chrona spoke up for the first time since they arrived, snapping his master to attention while the shadows receded to the corners of the room.

There was a moment of silence as tension hung over the both of them.

"I'm sorry dear friend, but my stance is not changing on this subject." Clockwork set down his now empty cup and turned away from the Reaper of the Living. "Daniel lives. He shall live for a good long while, and his influence will prompt several large events that are needed for this timeline to function. The best you can do is work with what I'm giving you."

Death dug his nails into his palm. This was treading too far into _his_ territory, it was _his _call on who died, this was completely undermining the job he was assigned upon creation. But he couldn't just kill Father Time or else the universe would come to an end and time would implode on itself. And they did not want to relive what happened _last _time.

"Chrona, we're done here." Death stood and straightened his glasses, letting the light reflect and cover his black eyes from view. "Let's go."

"Yes Master." Chrona stood, letting his wings puff out while wiping crumbs and hiding the cookie bag. Bowing to Father Time, he collected his scythe and allowed Death to enter the portal first. "I apologize for the way Master acted. But you must realize the actions taken today are going to upset the entire Counsel, not just him."

"I know. And I embrace it." Clockwork smiled. "Oh, and don't be afraid to stop by for a drink sometime. I know how much working for someone like him can be stressful. Have you been reconsidering retirement?"

Chrona dropped the formality and shrugged. "A little. Maybe in a few years. See ya' FT."

Clockwork gave a small wave goodbye as the angel stepped through and closed the portal.

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><p>Entering the black-bricked palace, the first thing Death did was bark to his servants about being in his study, then slam the door. When Chrona entered moments later, he disposed of his scythe and sighed after a hard days work.<p>

"Chrona?"

Turning from the entrance to the staircase, Chrona fixed his red eyes on a pale-haired fifteen year old in his nightclothes. "Lucifer, what are you doing up?"

"I got hungry." The tired, deadpan voice mimicked his father in many ways, the difference was being soft when the older mans was sharp and annoyed. "Did Father and Clockwork have an argument again?"

"Yeah." The angel let his wings droop. Stupid Fenton kid was going to ruin everyone's week, he just _knew _Death would pile on the workload the following day. Taking out the half empty cookie package, he tossed it to the teen before dragging himself to catch a power nap on one of the couches in the library.

Lucifer merely stared, shrugged, then turned to walk back upstairs and began eating.

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><p><strong>I have pictures of Chrona and Lucifer on my devaintART account, which you can find the link to on my profile page. Unfortunately my scanner if refusing to work so any pictures of Death will have to wait. <strong>

**This goes with my Urban Phantasy series, the first story for which is still being worked on. This oneshot is merely a character/setting study that goes into that universe. Any questions can be asked via review or PM. **

**Be sure to leave a review! I take critiques, but try to refrain from being too cruel. Critique does not mean 'Call the author a dumbass.'**


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